


Taste the Quinto

by highflyerwings



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Gen, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highflyerwings/pseuds/highflyerwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skittles and a curious Chris Pine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste the Quinto

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece of fanfic ever. I don't know, I feel that's worth documenting here. Originally posted on LJ (in 2009).

Summer, no matter where you’re at, has but one rule:  _do nothing_. And not doing anything in Chris’s world means staying up all night watching “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” re-runs, because besides porn it’s the only good thing on television at three-o-clock in the morning (but really it’s because Karl’s impression of the “Carlton dance” always seems to make it a worthwhile decision); it means wasting afternoons acting out epic scenes from “Star Wars” using kitchen utensils as light-sabers, or the good ol’ stand-by of finding yourself on your back, staring up at the sky in your backyard, if only because it just felt like the right thing to do…which happened to be the very situation Chris found himself in on one particularly summeryafternoon in the middle of July.

Chris wasn’t sure how long he’d been laying there, but knew it was long enough that he was now laying in the shade as opposed to the pressing heat of the sun he’d been in earlier…he was happy for the change. He was feeling especially lazy, even by summer’s standards, and wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon. His pattern of alternately dozing off, and seeing just how many show-tunes he actually knew (but would never admit) by humming them all quietly to himself, was interrupted by the sound of faintly rustling grass to his right as Zach sat himself down with a quiet grunt.

When you’ve been friends as long as Zach and Chris have, and when you’ve grown as accustomed to another’s presence as these two men have of each other, the need for an invitation or even a knock on the door seems sort of…unnecessary.

A couple moments of companionable silence passed before Chris slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Zach. His eyes narrowed and studied the older man for a minute before a slight smirk crossed his face and he turned his head back towards the sky and closed his eyes,

“You know…for all your fashionable wisdom, and unparalleled knowledge of everything ‘trendy’….you’re sure compromising your GQ image by wearing those Aviators…which, I’m sorry to say, do  _not_  work for you.” 

He heard a quiet chuckle next to him, “I’ll survive,” Zach said softly.

Chris heard a crinkling sound and a faint *click click* which prompted him to open his eyes and glance to his right. Zach was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, and arms draped lazily over them. He glanced down at Chris and held out a small bag,  

“Skittle?”

A slow crooked smile spread across Chris’s face and he held out his hand. Zach tipped the bag and a trail of candy fell out. 

“Thanks,” Chris said as he popped a couple of pieces into his mouth.

Zach shifted next to him and was now laying on his back; sunglasses discarded on the ground to his side. 

Zach sighed, “Summer sucks.”

Chris smiled, “Why is that, Mr. Quinto?”

“Too hot.”     

Chris laughed, “Yeah? Is that why you’re only speaking in sentences containing two words or less? It’s too hot?”     

Zach made a small snorting sound, “Guess so.”

They both laughed, and simultaneously popped some more Skittles into their mouths. A couple moments of silence passed when Chris furrowed his brow and studied the candy in his hand,   

“Why do I have all greens?” 

“That’s all that’s left,” Zach shrugged.

“But I like the red ones,” Chris whined.

“Sorry,” Zach replied unenthusiastically.

Chris smirked, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who eat all of one color at a time.”

A pause…

“Maybe,” Zach says, opening his eyes to glance at Chris who was now propped up on his right elbow looking down at him.

Chris popped another Skittle into his mouth and smiled, “Right.”

Zach closed his eyes again. Chris remained propped on his elbow looking down at the dark-haired man, studying him. A look of amusement suddenly crossed his face,

“Stick out your tongue.”

“’scuse me?” Zach replied, one eye opening to look at Chris.

“Let me see your tongue,” Chris smiled.

“Why?” Zach opened his other eye and stared at Chris in confusion.

“Just let me see it,” Chris laughed.

Zach paused for a moment before he slowly stuck out his tongue. 

“Hmm.” Chris hummed, looking at a deep shade of some weirdly indescribable color coating his friend’s tongue.

Zach’s tongue quickly retreated back into his mouth, and his brows knit together in confusion, “And why did you need to see my tongue?”

Chris shrugged, “You’ve eaten a lot of Skittles. Just wanted to see what color it was.”

Zach gazed at Chris in dismay for a split second before laughing and closing his eyes again, “You are  _so weird_  Pine, you know that?”

Chris chuckled, “So I’ve been told.” 

Chris remained propped on his elbow gazing down at his friend. He could sense Zach stiffen slightly as he cleared his throat, “What…”

Chris didn’t respond immediately, he just continued to study the other man’s face. “You’re embarrassingly un-eloquent today” he said finally.

“It’s hot.” Zach mumbled.

“No excuse” Chris moved his tongue around inside his mouth, reveling in the lingering aftertaste of Skittles, when he suddenly froze and his eyebrows drew together slightly. The concentration with which he was studying his friend deepened as he vaguely wondered if Zach’s mouth would taste the same way. 

 _Where the hell did that come from?_  He thought.

“What…” Zach said again, sensing Chris’s gaze still on him.

Chris started slightly at the noise, then immediately relaxed and shook his head, “Nothing.”

“Then stop staring at me.”

Chris didn’t respond. He just stared with a curious expression at his friend.

“Not kidding Pine. Stop it.” his eyes were still shut.

Silence…

“Christopher, I swear to God, if you d—“ his speech trailed off as he opened his eyes and saw his friend’s intensely blue (and slightly glazed) eyes boring into him. “What…” Zach said again, fidgeting, looking at Chris with concern.

Chris mumbled slowly, “Just wondering…if…your mouth tastes like Skittles...” Zach looked up at him in confusion but remained silent. 

Chris wasn’t sure what made him do it.  _The heat,_ he reasoned. He felt tipsy.  _Must be the heat_. He felt loose, and relaxed, and comfortable, in the way only the sun—or a good stiff drink—can make you feel. He slowly leaned down, only slightly, and absent-mindedly licked his own lips. The look on Zach’s face changed from confusion, to concerned anticipation. Chris took this as a sign and slowly closed the space between them until their lips were barely touching.  _This is weird…new…not uncomfortable_ … _is Zach okay with this? He isn’t freaking out. Zach never freaks out though…What am I doing?...this is weird,_ his thoughts were rambling lazily through his head.

The two gazed at each other through hooded eyelids for only a second before Chris pressed his lips firmly to Zach’s. The kiss was tentative and soft, as the two men merely brushed their lips together. After a few moments Chris flicked his tongue across Zach’s bottom lip, eliciting a tiny noise from the man underneath him. This was all it took for Chris to deepen the kiss, slightly easing his way into the other man’s mouth. Their movements were lazy and impossibly slow; Chris’s tongue slowly slid along Zach’s, tracing every curve of the man’s mouth.

Chris’s mind was completely blank. It was as if the blind’s had been drawn. Everything was fuzzy, and there was a slight buzzing in his ears. Any coherent thought Chris might have had left his brain in order to make room for the intensity of Zach’s mouth; soft and unbelievably warm under his. And, much to Chris’s delight, a sweetness poured from the other man’s mouth that was unmistakably Skittle-flavored. He sought out the taste with slow swipes of his tongue, delving deeper into Zach’s mouth. 

He was lost; lost in the taste and feel of Zach’s mouth. 

His reverie was broken suddenly when he felt Zach sigh, almost imperceptibly. Chris gently sucked on Zach’s bottom lip as he pulled away, and slowly opened his eyes.

Zach quirked an eyebrow— _God he was good at that_ —and breathed, “And?...”

Chris plopped back down on the grass in the same position he’d been in when Zach arrived, “Tastes like Skittles,” he conceded with a wide grin.


End file.
